My Mom by Roxanne Lorenz
My mom was a beautiful person both inside and out. She was loved and admired by everyone she met.
When I was just an infant I contracted the whooping cough. Since I had trouble breathing, she sat up all night for many nights in a row, holding me upright so I could breathe.
She always made matching outfits for my sister and me and sometimes my brother.
She would always come to my rescue when I was in trouble. One year I was tormented daily by a schoolmate on my way home from school. When I came home crying, my mother said she would shake the bully out of her boots.
The next day my mom waited behind a bush for the mean child to torment me. Then she jumped out, picked her up and shook her.
My mom was a great teacher. She loved to read me great literature. We often sat at the kitchen table, where she would read stories focusing on strong moral values. Some favorites where writings by Abraham Lincoln, poems by Ralph Waldo Emerson, If by Rudyard Kipling, Shakespeare, and of course the Bible.
She thought it important to teach me these things all the time.
She would also give me advice about men. She would say men like the trill of the chase and encouraged me to play hard to get. She said it was like an English fox hunt.’ Would it be any fun if the fox lay down at the hounds feet?’’, She said. To demonstrate she lay on the floor and said ”Here I am!!” When I tried this on my future husband he thought it a certain rejection.
She loved to laugh and make people laugh and told funny stories. My favorites were of her childhood. She told me one time, egged on by her brothers, she climbed a tree in her fathers cherry orchard. She had a slingshot. When a mean neighbor bent over, she aimed, and sent a cherry sailing and it hit its mark.
Her father told her to always treat a gun as if it where loaded. She decided to test a gun before she used it to put one of the chickens out of it’s misery, but blew a hole through the mattress.
She liked to make fun of people who committed what she called a faux parson speaker at church once messed up and said,’ If you see a bad man shun him, if you see a good man emulate him!”
She always told my sister and me to be concerned with our appearance. She would say ” suffer to be beautiful’’; this seemed to apply mainly to our hair. We had to endure many sessions of pulling; prodding, plaiting, and perming.She would twist hair into ringlets with rags.She made us wear brush rollers to bed.
One day Julie and I got into mothers henna and used it on ourselves. Though the results were less than ideal our mother took it all in stride.
My mother had a flair for the dramatic. When I asked her if there really was a tooth fairy, my mother waltzed into the room in the middle of the night in blue gossamer formal carrying a wand.
For years my mom and I would go on shopping excursions at the mall. We would mostly window shop, and have a leisurely lunch where we would sit and talk. Those where happy times.
My mother was always busy. She would sew, made puppets for Primary, crotchet, cook and garden. Her rose garden was admired my all and still exist today. I have my own rose garden which she helped me plant.
My mother taught me how to sing, and helped me memorize verse after verse and rewarded me with candy bars.
Once in awhile my mother became obsessed with doing one thing. One of the most memorable was what I like to call the Midas touch. She painted everything she could think of gold. Picture frames, dresser knobs, jewelry boxes, mirror frames, heater vents, and even faucets. Why, I will never know, but she made me laugh.
My favorite times with my parents were birthdays and holidays. We spent everyone we could together. When I was younger Thanksgiving and Christmas be at my parents home. Later it was at my home. Every year I would cook. Christmas Eve was our favorite night of the year. My parents would come over for oyster stew, eggnog and Christmas tree loaf. Then my husband, children and I would have a Scripture reading and sing carols. Amanda played her flute and Tony his guitar in more recent years. Last year my parents were at facilities, and we came to them and sang.
Though it makes me sad that this will never happen again in my life, I take comfort in the wise words of a friend,’ you just have to make new memories.”
Whenever I see a beautiful garden, it makes me think of my mom. I will always treasure the words of a primary song I sang as a little girl.
My Grandmother’s Old Fashioned Garden
Written By: Unknown
My grandmother dear
Has a garden,
Old fashioned and quaint
As can be
The flowers so rare,
That none can compare,
‘Neath the plum and apricot
And cherry tree.
Would you like me to
Show you the garden?
Then follow me now
And we’ll go
‘Round the old grape-vine arbor,
Back of the walk,
Where the birds and the butterflies
And flowers grow.
The daisies and lilies
Of grandmother’s kind,
Sweet William and peas,
Heliatrope and heartsease,
And violets, modest
‘Tho fragrant and fair.
I still long for
My grandmother’s garden;
Stately and tall
And sometimes in my dreams
I see her, it seems,
My dear grandmother
Standing there close to the wall.
In my grandmother’s
Old fashioned garden,
There are flow’rs
Of every hue
And old fashioned pinks
Are there too
I belong to
My grandmother’s garden,
I was picked
From the family tree;
So out in my grandmother’s
Old fashioned garden,
If you come there
You will find me.
All of the grandchildren think she was the best grandmother in the world. We will never forget her……